


The way you smile

by allwaswell16



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Beach, Boats and Ships, Chance Meetings, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, Kissing in the Rain, M/M, Ocean, Resort, Snorkeling, Songwriter Harry Styles, St. Lucia, Strangers to Lovers, Swimming, Teacher Louis, Vacation, Volcanoes, Workaholic Harry, Ziplining, caribbean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-07
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-07-28 11:35:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allwaswell16/pseuds/allwaswell16
Summary: Harry doesn’t need to go on holiday. Unfortunately, his mum and sister disagree, which is how he ends up alone on holiday in the Caribbean. Luckily, he's not alone for long.





	The way you smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovelarry10](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelarry10/gifts).

> Chloe, I hope you enjoy the fic! I did not stray from the prompt, which I can honestly say is the first time I've ever managed to do that. lol!
> 
> I was inspired to write this fic about St. Lucia, a small tropical island in the Caribbean, because as soon as I was able to begin writing this fic, I found my travel journal from my honeymoon to St. Lucia. Many of the incidents in this fic were based on things that really happened on my honeymoon. 
> 
> Huge thank you to taggiecb for being my beta as always and yousopugly for Brit picking! <3 <3
> 
> And another huge thank you to the mods of the exchange! This is my fourth time writing for the summer exchange, and I'm so glad you all decided to take it on this year and keep it going!

Harry doesn’t need to go on holiday.

It’s absolutely ridiculous that he’s been strong armed into going on one. Yes, his career as a songwriter is a bit demanding, but that doesn’t mean he needs a break from it no matter how often his mum and sister say he needs one. 

He steps off the jet and onto the tarmac of the smallest airport he’s ever seen. The bloody runway begins at the edge of a cliff, terrifying for fuck’s sake. He instinctively reaches for the guitar case usually strapped to his back before he remembers his sister resolutely refusing to let him bring one. Pulling his sunglasses back over his eyes, he follows whoever’s been sent out to greet him and is herded through customs. His shirt sticks to his skin just from the short walk into and through the airport. He doesn’t find relief from the heat until he’s blasted with the air con of the van plastered with the words  _ The St. Lucian Paradise Hotel & Resort  _ on the side of it. 

He leans his head against the window of the van, closing his eyes to rest again. He’s not quite used to being awake during daylight hours. His life revolves around the schedules of pop stars, not very many early morning writing or recording sessions. And he’s been up since the ungodly hour of seven o’clock to catch this flight to the Caribbean out of London. 

Resting is short lived with how bumpy the ride is. The roads aren’t paved in any sort of modern way past the one highway they’ve exited. He leans back against the seat instead and blearily watches the scenery in short bursts of green and tan as his eyes blink slowly open and shut. At least the driver isn’t chatty. Although he possibly doesn’t speak English either.

With a jolt, they arrive at a large gate, seemingly in the side of a forest of trees, and yet as soon as they’re through the gate and down a winding angled road, he realizes they’re headed towards the sea. And suddenly, incredible, lush landscaping bright with tropical flowers, leads them up to a sprawling resort complex that draws the eye to the beach and blue of the sea beyond it. 

He’s sure it’s relatively impressive, but to be honest all he cares about at the moment is seeing the bed. He has no idea where his luggage has gone, but he’s been assured it’s on its way to the resort as he’s ushered into the lobby and handed a drink, fruit on sticks and umbrellas popping out of it. 

“Welcome to St. Lucia! Please join us in our main restaurant for dinner.”

“Mate, I just want to go to my room, if that’s alright.”

“Of course, sir. Of course. Right this way, Mr. Styles.”

As they take him to a golf cart stationed just outside the open air building, he catches a glimpse of blue. His tired eyes seek out the flash of color that drew his attention, but when he turns to look, whomever’s blue eyes he’d seen has been swallowed up by a group of people listening to a spiel about resort amenities. 

He turns back around and climbs aboard the golf cart that whisks him off to a room that’s more like a private bungalow. Slightly away from the main areas of the resort and with a private pool, it’s clear this area is a more upgraded experience than the main hotel.

As he walks up the steps, he thinks he sees movement of some type of creature with claws in a fissure in the wall along the path. A crab? He’s too tired to inspect further.

“Whenever you’d like to visit the main resort or restaurants, please just press the blue button on your phone for someone to pick you up.”

Knackered, Harry merely nods his head, eager to fall into the bed. As soon as the man is gone, he strips off his clothes and plants face first into the bed. He’s asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. 

~~*~~

Bright, tropical light beams in through the windows of the bungalow, waking Harry in the late morning hours. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he makes his way into the shower to wash off the travel. It helps. He feels slightly more human now. His stomach protests the lack of food he’s eaten, so that appears to be the first order of business for this holiday.

His luggage is all set in the main living space, which surprises him a bit seeing as how he didn’t hear anyone come in. Rummaging through it, he finds his mother and sister have clearly determined what from his wardrobe was considered vacation worthy. A few floral print shirts, a linen one, a few old t-shirts. Linen trousers, swimming shorts, and a pair of jean shorts. Not exactly a vast array to choose from, but then, his closet probably didn’t have much in the way of casual vacation clothes. He recognizes most of it from when he was writing with a boy band in Miami. 

He doesn’t bother calling for a golf cart, opting to just walk the path leading down towards the resort and the beach sprawling out before it. The lobby is bustling with people as he makes his way through to the main restaurant, groups heading out into vans for excursions mostly. 

When he makes it into the buffet area of the restaurant, he’s pleasantly surprised by the selection, grabbing fruit and yoghurt, a croissant and coffee. He finds a small table near the windows and settles in for a bit with his phone. He has a few work emails, but there really isn’t much he can do about them. His laptop was confiscated by his sister in the hopes he’d do no work on this trip. He swipes out of his email and scrolls through twitter instead until that gets boring.

When he stands up from the table, he stretches a bit and catches someone doing a double take as they walk past him towards the lobby. He sees an intriguing flash of blue eyes that quickly looks away and wonders if they’re the same pair he’d seen yesterday. This pair seem to be attached to a very attractive bum. Before he can think about it, he’s following him into the lobby and not out towards the beach as he’d planned on doing.

The man walks straight over to a desk advertising excursions and sits down. There are several other desks with eager consultants, waving at Harry to come speak with them. He shrugs and takes a chair at one of the desks.

“Hello, sir! What are you interested in signing up for today? Rainforest zipline? Scuba diving? Volcano tour?”

“Ehm--” Harry looks at the brochures spread out before him. “Not sure. Just going to take pamphlets of each, if that’s okay?”

“Of course! Come back when you’ve made your decisions, and I’ll help you book everything.”

“Right. Cheers.” Harry stands up a bit awkwardly, glancing over towards the man he followed over here. He’s still busy booking things, it looks like, so Harry takes his pamphlets out towards the beach. 

He’s not properly dressed for swimming, so he just walks out into the hot sand and sits on the edge of a beach chair and flips through the brochures. It’s a bit warm to sit in the sun this long, so he scouts out a shaded chair, thankful for the waiters who bring him cold drinks as he half heartedly reads through one or two of the excursion brochures. 

Couples walk by, hand in hand as they head towards the water, some of them with snorkeling gear. There’s a mum and dad helping a little boy build a sand castle at the edge of the waves. There’s an uneasiness in being here alone, almost as if he feels adrift from life. Maybe he is. What is his life beyond music? Does he even have one? 

He’s crap on his own. He’s always known that. And now here he is, alone with his own thoughts. It’s the first day, and he already sees why he’s been sent here. He needs to get his shit together. He can’t keep constantly going on the road and have only the most superficial of relationships with people. It’s not what he wants. But it  _ is _ what he has, and so he’s clung to it. So damn afraid to actually try to have something more in his life.

Fuck.

“Hiya, anyone sitting here?”

Harry doesn’t look up, just stares unseeing at a boat tour brochure. “No. No one is sitting there. I’m here alone.” 

He’s alone. Except for this small crab digging holes beside him. Just him and this crab.

“Yeah? Me too. Don’t meet too many lone travelers, but I’m used to it by now. Always saving up just to head on the next adventure, me. You a Brit? Sound like it. Though you also sound like you’re about to toss yourself into the sea, which is a bit odd seeing as how you’re in paradise.”

He looks up. The man’s blue eyes are covered by sunglasses now, but there’s no mistaking him. He’s quite a striking man, even more gorgeous close up. And now the man’s seen him sitting here having a life crisis. Fucking great.

“Ehm--” He clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. From Cheshire, but live in London now. You sound like a Brit yourself. Northern as well?”

He laughs, an oddly charming laugh that actually sounds like the words ‘ha ha ha.’ He’s never actually heard anyone laugh like that before. “Northern. That’s me. From Doncaster. Live in London now as well. I’m Louis.”

Louis holds a hand out between their beach chairs, and Harry clasps it in a brief shake. He wishes Louis would take off his sunglasses, so he could see his eyes again. “I’m Harry.”

“Well, Harry. What have you decided on then?” Louis nods at the glossy pages in front of him. 

“Oh, I dunno. Not sure I’m gonna do any of it.”

“Ah, I see. You’re a beach kind of guy. Gonna just sun yourself and drink out of coconuts then?”

Harry snorts. “No. I just--I guess I don’t really know what I want to do.”

Fuck, he sounds pathetic. 

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Is that right? Are you saying you don’t know how to be on holiday, Harold? Because I can help you with that. I’m nearly a professional vacationer at this point.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow. He’d normally correct someone for saying his name improperly, but for some reason, he likes the way Louis says it as if it’s a nickname. “A professional?”

“Well, I just tend to travel a lot. I’m a teacher, but I travel during nearly every break I’ve got. Can I ask how you’ve managed to come to St. Lucia of all places without knowing what you want to do? Sorry if that’s prying. It’s just an out of the way place to come.”

Harry bites his lip, unsure how much to confess. “Ehm--I didn’t really want to come, but my sister and my mum sort of talked me into it. A holiday, I mean. They think I’m working too much.”

“Are you?”

“Might be,” he admits. “So my sister honeymooned here a few years back, so I suppose that’s why she chose St. Lucia when she was booking everything with my credit card.”

Louis bursts out into that same odd laugh, and it makes Harry smile to have gotten another laugh out of him. 

“Well, mate, if you need any advice on how to have fun here, I can help. Been here a few times before. I’m not much of a lay on the beach all day kind of bloke, so this island is perfect for me.”

Harry can imagine it is. Just from the short time he’s spent talking to Louis, he fairly radiates energy. 

He must not look convinced because Louis keeps talking. “--thought about trying out the Caribbean restaurant tonight. Never been. Usually stick to the main dining area and eat cheese toasties, but thought maybe tonight’s the night I try out something different. You could try it out with me if you like. We could discuss the excursions you might like to go on. I could help you decide.”

Is Louis asking him out on a date? Or is he just being kind to the morose stranger on the beach? Better to take his chance with Louis. “Yeah? That’d be great. What time do you think?”

“Meet you there at eight?”

Harry nods.

“Bring your brochures, Harold.” Louis stands up, his bare feet in the sand. “Gonna go swim for a bit. Gotta keep myself in shape if I’m taking a fit bloke like you out for dinner.”

Louis’ already turned and started walking towards the water before Harry can speak. Louis makes a very pretty picture as he dives into the water. Harry’s eyes follow him as he floats on a raft and plays with a beach ball with a few kids on the beach and swims with the waves. He finds watching Louis to be an interesting way to pass the time. 

~~*~~

Harry’s right nervous. Somehow over the course of dinner, Louis sorted out his entire vacation to match his own. He suspects it’s because he could see Louis’ eyes, and they mesmerised him somehow into thinking he could do things like go zip lining through the rain forest. 

Sounds amazing, if he weren’t terrified of heights. 

“Harold! Over here!”

Across the lobby he sees Louis waving at him, enthusiastic as ever. It’s clearly a bit contagious as he ends up returning the wave and smiling instead of running away from the bus in fear.

The shuttle ride into the rain forest doesn’t take too long; St. Lucia being as small as it is. The tour guide puts him at ease a bit with his ready banter as the scenery out the windows enchants him, mountains and dense forest. He accidentally leans a bit too far into Louis’ space to look out the window, and their thighs touch on the bench seat. 

“Sorry.” He scoots back a few centimeters.

“Don’t be. Should have let you have the window.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s fine. I’m easy.” 

“Switch with me, yeah? It’s your first time in St. Lucia.” Louis’ already up and motioning for Harry to scoot across the bench seat beneath him, so Harry ends up on the receiving end of a very close up look at Louis’ bum. He tries not to swallow his tongue. 

“Thanks.” He spends the rest of the journey staring out the window at the incredible landscape. But if he’s not mistaken, Louis seems to not always be looking out the window. He maybe seems to be eyeing him a bit. Harry hides his smile.

The shuttle suddenly stops seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

“Welcome to Treetops Adventure Park! We are currently in the midst of our forest preserve which is also home to the longest, fastest, highest zip lines on the island!”

The guide is making that sound as if it’s a good thing to be long, fast, and high off the ground. Harry’s stomach turns. Why did he agree to do this again? Louis nudges him, a wide grin on his face. Oh, right. A fit boy has done this to him.

They’re strapped into harnesses and given a brief (very brief, far too brief) demonstration of how to control their speed as they hurtle towards their deaths over treetops and rivers. 

Only a few people at a time can be on the wooden platform, so he stays safely on the ground, trying to keep them at the back of the line. He fusses a bit with the straps of the helmet he’s wearing and can feel his hands sweat beneath the thick gloves they’ve been given to wear. Soon (too soon, far too soon), they’re told to climb up. 

Did he think he was panicked before now? Because what he’s feeling now is real panic. He’s trying to take deep breaths, but they keep catching in his lungs. What if he passes out while he’s in the air?

“All right, Harry?”

“Mmm.” 

“You wouldn’t happen to be a little scared, would you?”

“Me?” His voice sounds like a squeak, which he’s not sure he’s ever heard it do. At least not since he was thirteen. “I’m fine. Let’s go--fly through the rainforest even though people have no business flying without wings!”

Louis’ wearing aviator sunglasses, so he can’t quite see his expression, but the raised eyebrows seem to be unconvinced he’s not afraid. He climbs up the platform. He’s watched all these other people go before him now. If all these people can do it, surely he can. Or he’s about to die because he has an insane crush on a bloke he met yesterday.

He tries to smile, but he’s not sure it looks convincing. He concentrates on his breathing instead. When it’s his turn, he looks back one last time at Louis. If he’s going to die, he wants to see his pretty face just before he goes. “Bye, Louis.”

“Um--bye? See you at the next platform, Harold.”

“Right.”

They buckle his harness into the contraption that connects to thick wire of some sort that once he puts his hands on, actually feels quite sturdy. He manages to force himself to the edge of the platform, and now it’s his turn to jump into the unknown. His instinct is to close his eyes, but that would just mean certain death. So he keeps his eyes open and before he can even will himself to go, his foot slips and suddenly he’s careening through a rainforest canopy. 

He immediately clings to the wire and his speed drops considerably. Huh. He really  _ can _ control the speed. It suddenly dawns on him that it’s not necessarily that he’s scared of heights. After all, he enjoys going to the top of the Eiffel Tower and the tops of church towers, but what he doesn’t like are rollercoasters and the like where he has no control over the situation. 

This though is actually quite amazing and maybe even--fun. He’s at the next platform before he knows it, landing onto the surface smoothly. There’s a man there to unhook his harness and barely thirty seconds later Louis comes barrelling onto the platform nearly bowling over everyone on it.

“Guess I didn’t quite remember how to slow myself down properly,” Louis says, looking a bit pale. “How’d you like it?”

“It was brilliant, actually!”

“Nice one, Harold! Worried for a minute that you might need to change your pants, you were so scared.”

“What are you on about? Been looking forward to this.” Harry grins and is rewarded with another one of Louis’ laughs. He’s feeling quite chuffed as he’s strapped in for the next zip line and the next and the next. The breeze blows through his hair, and it’s so exhilarating to be flying like this that he has to remind himself to admire the forest around him. 

On the twelfth and final zip line, he sees through a small clearing to the mountain and river beyond the tops of the trees, and it takes his breath away at its beauty. As he watches Louis land onto the platform, he feels his breath catch the same way.

~~*~~

The boat at Port Castries taking them out to a reef to snorkel is not very large and sets Harry’s nerves on edge a bit. He’s not really big on boats if he’s honest, but Louis’ excitement about taking him snorkeling is slightly infectious. And Louis  _ had _ been right about zip lining, so he’s just going to trust him that the boat is not going too fast through these choppy waves and that snorkeling is easy to get a handle on. The promise of sea turtles is appealing, he admits.

He tries to concentrate on the coastline and not the roll of his stomach. The bays and harbours they pass are quite beautiful, and he thinks he even sees the peak of Piton Flore in the distance. 

The chatter Louis keeps up in his ear helps settle him as well. They’ve spent nearly every waking minute of the trip together, and it already feels like Louis can tell when he’s nervous. The feel of Louis’ hot breath against his ear suddenly sends a shiver down his spine. He adjusts his life jacket just to put another inch of distance between them. 

Forgetting all about keeping his distance once they’re in the water, he grabs Louis’ hand to point out colourful schools of fish. The crystalline waters are calm and allow him to actually swim amidst seahorses and small nurse sharks, parrot fish and puffers and eels. The bright pinks and yellows of the coral on the reef and the anemones that he steers clear of make a lovely backdrop for the sea life before him. 

And then he sees one. He finds he’s already clasping Louis’ hand, so he just squeezes and points to the turtle just to their right. They spend the rest of their time chasing after it, not that they ever get too close to it again. 

The boat ride back to the resort seems less fraught, maybe because he lets himself scoot in close to Louis. For a bit of body heat of course. 

“So dinner?”

He and Louis have taken to eating every meal together. It makes sense to team up when they’re both here alone. Not to mention that they get on so well together. 

“Yeah, ehm--just got that massage my sister scheduled me, and then I’m all yours.” He really wishes he could take back that last bit. All yours? Christ.

Louis just nods. “I’ll meet you at your room at eight. The French place tonight, yeah?”

Harry grins at the way Louis squidges his nose up at the thought. This was Harry’s pick. They’ve been taking turns. 

He’s loathe to give up Louis’ company, but he knows his sister meant well with the massage. And it turns out that it’s incredibly relaxing. Where have massages been all his life? He’s definitely starting to see more and more his family’s point about his life. He’s actually been having so much fun here. He can’t even recall the last time he’s had as much fun. 

Louis has been a rather large part of his fun though. And now it seems that the idea of dating, of a relationship, doesn’t sound quite so draining as he’d imagined. He hasn’t even so much as thought of work when he’s in Louis’ presence unless Louis’ asked him a question about it. 

Deep in thought about this, he nearly steps on the rather large crab poking out of the crevice near the steps to his bungalow. “I didn’t imagine you that first night then!”

He stops to examine the creature for a moment before continuing inside to shower and maybe kip on the couch until it’s time for Louis to pick him up for their date--er, dinner.

By the time Louis arrives, he’s got most of the wrinkles steamed out of his linen pants. They’re the only things even semi appropriate for a nice restaurant, and he hadn’t thought about their condition until after his shower. He tries explaining all this as he answers the door in his boxer briefs, hiding his smile as Louis pretty clearly ogles him for a moment before pulling himself together, pink staining his cheeks. 

He takes a closer look at Louis’ forehead and can still see the faint imprint of goggle lines from snorkeling earlier. His heart twists a bit, unsure why he finds that so damn endearing. 

The restaurant has lovely views of the water, and they’re seated next to a window to truly enjoy the views. It’s quite a romantic type of atmosphere though, all couples out for a date it appears. He doesn’t say anything about that though and looks through the menu of fairly traditional French fare with a few interesting dishes. He decides on an escargot appetizer and then happens to glance up at Louis.

Just as he’s about to ask about the odd look on his face, a waiter appears to take their drink order and asks if they’d like an appetizer. Louis scrunches his face up when Harry orders and then says, “Hearts of palm for me.”

When the appetizers arrive, Louis says thank you to the waiter and then looks absolutely appalled by what’s in front of him.

“Lou?” Fuck, where did that come from? He’s never called him Lou. “Do you want to try any of mine?”

“Fuck no!” Louis hisses. “It’s snails, innit? What is this place you’ve brought me to, Harold? And is this veg or meat? I can’t even tell.”

Louis’ motioning to his own plate now, and Harry can’t hold in his loud bark of laughter that he quickly tries to stifle in his napkin. “It does look a bit like seafood the way they’ve cut it. Like scallops or something.”

“So what is it?”

“I don’t think I’ve actually had hearts of palm before but I think they’re just--part of a palm?”

Louis pokes the white cylindrical pieces of palm hearts. “The heart of a palm, you say?”

Harry shrugs. “Try it.”

“Definitely a veg,” Louis says as he chews, distaste written on his face.

“Ready to try my snails now?”

“Never.”

Just as they’re finishing their creme brulees Louis catches his eye and nods in the direction of the table next to them. Harry looks over to see a couple about their age and listens in to what they’re saying. 

“Yeah, it’s right there. In your nose.”

“What is it? Did I get it?” The woman asks quietly, dabbing at her nose.

“No, deeper.”

“Well, if it’s deeper, it’s supposed to stay there!”

Harry has to bite his lip hard to keep from laughing. Louis’ eyes are wide and watering at his attempt to hold back his own. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Harry whispers, and Louis just nods, standing up and then fleeing.

They giggle desperately as soon as they make it out into the still humid night air. The walk back to Harry’s bungalow is just long enough for his skin to feel damp, and just as they arrive, he sees his crab again, just his claw jutting out this time. “Mr. Crabs!”

“What?”

“My crab friend! He lives here in this crack in the wall.”

It’s a bit dark to see Louis’ reaction, but he feels a little foolish to have just said all this.

“You’ve made friends with a crab, have you?”

“Mhm.” He shrugs.

“Cute.” Harry gulps as Louis continues. “The crab I mean, obviously. Got a cute friend there, Harold. I approve.”

“Um--thank you?” He wishes he could see Louis’ expression before he says this, but oh well. “Would you like to come in for a drink? I’ve got a sick balcony if you want to see it.”

“Yeah, mate, okay.” 

He begins leading Louis into the living area and out towards the sliding glass doors leading to a large balcony with rather breathtaking views during the day. It’s slightly less impressive at night, but the breeze is still nice as Harry pours them each a Piton beer. 

“Cheers,” Louis says as he clinks their glasses together. 

They lean against the side of the balcony, closer together than Harry meant to get, close enough to see the shine in Louis’ eyes even in the darkness. His stomach flips as it often does in Louis’ presence, makes him dream things he used to think were impossible. Why doesn’t he base himself out of London more anyway? Does he really need to take so many jobs on the road? Has he just been running away from himself all this time? Maybe he wants to stop running. 

In fact, he’s never wanted to run away less than he does right now. No, he wants to stay right here in Louis’ gaze as long as possible. He wants to kiss Louis so badly right now. His heart skips a beat as he thinks about closing the space between them. What would Louis do? Would he press back against him? Or turn away with an excuse?

His heart begins thrumming madly at the thought of finding out. But then, Louis turns towards the view. “It’s very beautiful.”

“Yes, very beautiful.” Louis turns back to face him in time to see that he’s not looking at the sea. 

“I should--we have to be up early for the excursion tomorrow.”

“Right. ‘Course.” He can’t help but feel disappointment curling in his gut. Is he reading this wrong? Lord knows it’s been a while since he was interested in a man and trying to determine if the feeling was mutual.

And then, Louis’ hand is sliding along his arm and he’s pressing his lips to Harry’s cheek. “I had a really nice time with you tonight, Harry. See you tomorrow.”

Harry’s hand is already pressing against his cheek where Louis’ lips once were, and he sees Louis smile a bit cheekily at the sight of him embarrassing himself like this.

“See you tomorrow, Lou.”

~~*~~

It’s a testament to Louis’ persuasiveness that has him back on a boat today, cruising around the island towards what promises to be a day of fun exploring the island. They cruise past white sand beaches and gorgeous cliffs and charming fishing villages until they reach Soufriere.

A van takes them from the dock to the island’s resident volcano. There’s a new type of excitement in Louis’ eyes, having never been on this tour before, and Harry finds that he’s really enjoying the thought of doing something that’s new for both of them. 

He stares a little too long. Louis reaches out, pressing his finger to a few spots on his forehead. “I think your snorkeling goggles ate some of your sun cream. You’ve got a little burn here--and here. Did you pack aloe vera gel?”

“Murgh--ehm--yeah--er--no.”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Well, you can buy some at the resort when we get back tonight.”

“Mhm.” It would be great if he could actually speak some proper words when Louis touches him. As they walk closer to the dormant volcano, a smell permeates the air. 

“Bloody hell,” Louis murmurs plugging his nose as they walk closer.

They make their way down a wooden pathway and along uneven ground as they grow closer to the collapsed volcano spewing an odour quite like rotten eggs. Their guide tells them it’s hydrogen sulphide producing the foul smell. 

Harry finds the whole thing intriguing though. The landscape looks like something out of an apocalyptic science fiction movie with hot springs and grey and brown mud bubbling up sporadically. The guide warns them to be careful as the black mud and water is hot. The gurgles and gloops of the mixture fascinate him, and he draws a bit closer to the edge of the walkway.

Louis’ hand at his waist draws him back. “Looks a bit dodgy there, Harold.”

He tries not to melt into his touch and just retreats with a nod. Their next stop is a lot less smelly. 

Harry is immediately entranced by the nature trails of the botanical gardens, and he doesn’t even mind the sultry air. It’s as if he’s remembering a part of himself that he’d forgotten. Hiking, he used to like hiking, back when he was awake during daylight hours. He lags behind Louis a bit though as he stops to examine things along the way, but Louis always stops and waits for him to catch up.

The actual gardens themselves are unbelievable. Huge, exotic blossoms dominate the charming paths that meander through the gardens. He stops to take photos with his phone every few feet. Orchids, hibiscus, Birds of Paradise, and bamboo trees. And then suddenly, there’s movement just beyond them on the path. Small lizards skitter across the stone, and Louis thinks he spots a mongoose. When he looks a bit more closely, he notices the hummingbirds flying about the gardens. 

They wander beyond the gardens towards the waterfall and admire the colours of the falls, brown and yellow and green. It’s an impressive sight that people gather around to take selfies and photos in front of. 

“Would you mind?” 

Harry turns towards a woman holding out her phone, and he takes a photo of her and her husband who are on their honeymoon for the week. 

“I can take one of you and your boyfriend if you like,” she says. 

“Ehm--he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ohhh, sorry! You both just looked so cute together!”

“Ha, yeah. Ehm--” He turns quickly to take a photo of the waterfall and doesn’t look in Louis’ direction. 

When he turns to look back at Louis, he’s taking a photo for another couple. They point at Harry as soon as Louis is done, and he knows Louis’ being asked the same as he shakes his head with a funny look on his face. 

Just as Louis walks up to him with an odd smile on his face, yet another woman approaches them with a wide smile. “I can take a photo of you two if you’d like! You guys make a great couple!”

“Oh--ehm--”

“Sure,” Louis says quickly, wrapping an arm around Harry’s waist, and he tries his best to smile and not just look surprised.

“Hope you don’t mind,” Louis whispers. “Just figured it would be easier than explaining again.”

“Right.” 

They take a few more photos of the waterfall before heading back towards the mineral baths and the restaurant on the grounds for dinner.

Night has descended on the island as they walk back through the resort. 

Harry clears his throat as his arm brushes against Louis’. “Today was really nice.”

“Yeah, quite cool. That volcano was wicked.”

That wasn’t really what he meant. The volcano  _ was _ quite cool, and the waterfall and the gardens and the scrummy Carribbean meal. But what he really liked was spending the day with Louis. Every minute of this holiday that he’s spent with Louis has been amazing. He lets these thoughts sit on his tongue, but doesn’t speak them.

They reach Mr. Crab’s wall and Louis stops. Harry wonders if he invites him in this time if something more will happen. 

“So Harold, tomorrow’s our last full day together. Think we should just have a proper beach day, relax a little. If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, that sounds great. Ehm--”

Louis yawns. “Knackered. If you want to have a lie in tomorrow morning that’s cool. Just ring me when you’re up.”

Harry nods. Louis takes a deep breath and lets it out as though he’s building up to something. He even seems to sway towards him in the dim light. 

“Night, Harold.”

“Night, Louis.”

~~*~~

The day dawns a bit overcast, matching Harry’s mood. He never expected to find someone like Louis when he showed up on this island. He thought he’d lay around on the beach, bored out of his mind, trying to find a guitar and recording software somewhere on the island.

Instead, he’s saying hello to a crab on his way to breakfast and can’t wait to see a boy he’s only just met a week ago. The darkening of the clouds worries him that their beach day will be spoiled by rain. They’ve had plenty of time on the beach over the last few days, but he’s anxious to have Louis all to himself today and maybe talk about what this is between them. 

He’s almost certain it’s not all one sided, not with the way Louis watches him when he thinks he’s not looking. The way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs at one of Harry’s jokes (which he knows aren’t any good). The way his touch lingers when he thinks no one will notice. The way each meal feels like a date. The way they already know so much about each other. 

As he walks into the pavilion for breakfast, he finds Louis waiting for him at their table. 

“Have I told you how much I enjoy those swim shorts, Harold?”

Harry grins. “Every time I wear them. Can’t believe my sister packed me ones with a turtle print. She also packed a white pair that’s practically transparent when wet, so I thought I’d stick with the turtles so as not to scandalise anyone.”

Louis chokes on the water he’s just taken a sip of. “Sorry, just went down wrong.”

Harry loads his plate with fresh fruit, already thinking about how he’ll miss how amazing the produce is here. He tries not to think about his flight to London tomorrow that’s looming over their heads.

“Come on, Harry. Stop whinging about the rain and let’s enjoy the beach before it starts!” Louis calls over his shoulder as he jogs ahead of him onto the beach. The day looks gloomy enough that they secure fantastic beach chairs under shaded thatch roof umbrellas close to the water and the beach bar. 

The bright yellow rafts that are hot commodities on a sunny day are plentiful today, so they each take one to lay out on as they float on the warm water, occasionally checking in with each other with a touch or a story. 

“Remember that first day I met you when you ate a cheese toasty?”

Louis snorts. “Was delicious. Gonna ask for a special pizza today. Double cheese, jalapenos, ham, pepperoni.”

Harry raises his sunglasses. “You can’t ask for that at the beach buffet! The food’s already prepared!”

“Oh, Harold. Just watch me.”

“I am watching you,” he mumbles. He wishes he hadn’t propped his sunglasses on his head. It would make it less obvious that he can’t look away from Louis stretched out on a raft. He can’t tell what Louis is thinking when he’s got his sunnies on, and suddenly, it feels like he’s given away too much. Not just from what he said, but the way he’s looking at him. He can feel his face heating up, and his only escape is the water beneath him.

He slides quickly off the raft and into the sea, plunging down a few feet before coming back up for air. The water has cooled the blush on his cheeks, and he climbs back aboard the small raft and tries to seem unperturbed. 

“Lost your sunnies, Harold.”

“Fuck!” His hands reach up to pat his head where his sunglasses once sat atop his head. He jumps back off the raft, searching for his favourite pair of sunnies, but his eyes sting with the salt. He comes back up, unsuccessful. 

Louis just smiles at his distress, pulling goggles out of his pocket before diving off his own raft. He comes up less than a minute later with Harry’s expensive glasses. 

“Thanks,” he says, a bit sheepish.

“You’re welcome, love.” As soon as the endearment leaves his mouth, Louis coughs as though to cover up his slip. Harry tries to hold back the pleasure from his face. He’s pretty sure he fails. “Let’s go build summat in the sand before it rains.”

Louis’ paddling back to the beach on the raft before Harry can say a word, so he follows in his wake. Louis collects both rafts and places them back in their area, and by the time he returns, Harry’s sat in the sand beginning to build a sand Piton. 

Louis plops down beside him and starts building something of his own. When Harry looks back, he begins to suspect something. “Lou?”

“Mmm?”

“That isn’t--what I think it is, is it?”

Louis shrugs, grinning so hard his eyes nearly shut. “What do you think it is, Harold?”

The sand is clearly in the shape of a penis, but he doesn’t want to  _ say _ it. Christ. “An eggplant?”

Louis bursts into laughter that bubbles from him in the most infectious way that has Harry laughing as well. 

Louis finally gets ahold of himself and stands, brushing off sand from his backside. “What you want for our first round then?”

“Surprise me.”

Louis waggles his eyebrows and heads off towards the bar. Deciding to abandon the sand creations, he towels off and lays back out on the beach chair where Louis finds him, holding some kind of frozen concoction out to him.

“Told them to make something with banana for you, it being your favourite and all.” Something warms in his chest that Louis knows his likes by now. “So they made you a coconut banana colada. Hope you like it.”

The first sip proves that both Louis and the bartender are heaven sent. It’s literally the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted in his life. He moans loudly at the flavour. “Bloody hell this is delicious. How many of these do you think I can drink in one day?”

When he glances over, Louis is sat on the chair beside him with his sunnies perched on his head, his mouth open a little and looking a bit shell shocked by something. “All right, Lou?”

Louis shakes his head a bit as if to clear his mind, blinking a few times before shuttering his eyes behind the glasses again. “Glad you like it.”

The rain finally descends, and they spend the day in and out of the resort. When the rain lets up, they swim in the pool. When it doesn’t, they play table tennis and checkers in the game room. Neither of them approach the subject of his imminent departure.

They head back to their rooms to clean up for dinner, and Harry spends his entire shower psyching himself up to talk to Louis about what he wants when they’re both back in London. Namely, he wants Louis. He wants them to try this thing out for real. He wants to ask him on a real date, one where he gets to kiss him at the end of the night. 

Nerves spark along his skin as he says hello to Mr. Crabs and heads towards the main dining area. They have a lovely dinner of Carribbean cuisine as local singers serenade them, and it truly could not be a more perfect last meal in paradise with the man he has many plans for. He just needs to find the courage to tell him.

As they walk back towards Harry’s bungalow, the clouds open above them. Laughing, they let the warm rain soak them from head to foot, not caring about anything but the company of the other. They splash through puddles and check on Mr. Crabs, and then they’re at the door to Harry’s room. 

A beat of time passes as they stare into each others eyes for a charged moment. Before Harry can even wonder what he should say or do, Louis’ lips are pressing against his own. Their lips brush together, tentative at first, and then Louis’ hand is cradling the back of his head, his thumb brushing against the sensitive lobe of his ear as the kiss deepens. 

Harry opens his mouth for him, wanting more, as he clutches at the front of Louis’ shirt. Louis gives him more, taking the invitation of his tongue into Harry’s mouth and his hands that slide down his arms and grasp at his hips, bringing them closer together. 

He already feels breathless with how Louis is kissing him, his mind a swirl of need for this man who fits so perfectly against him. And then, Louis is pulling away, breathing hard against the skin of his neck and letting out a moan of something that doesn’t sound entirely like pleasure.

Anxiety spikes in his gut, but he says what he wants to say anyway. “Come inside.”

Louis’ hands tighten at his hips, and he lets out a long sigh against him, the scruff of his beard against his neck sends a spike of pleasure down his spine. But he has a feeling he isn’t going to like his answer.. “I can’t. I really, really want to, but I just--”

Harry releases his shirt and backs away a step. “Why not?”

Louis backs up a step as well, frustration apparent on his face. “Harry, if I go inside that room, I’m never going to want to let you go.”

Harry’s clenched heart lightens a bit as his words, but then Louis continues. 

“I want you, Harry. So much. But I don’t want something that’s a one off. I tried, I really did, to just be your friend, but it didn’t work. I’m falling for you, and if you decide you don’t want to see me when we’re back in London, I don’t want to be left with the memory of what you sound like when you come. I don’t want my dreams haunted by the way your skin looks flushed with pleasure. It’ll be hard enough knowing what you look like when you’re trying not to smile. What you sound like when you’re trying to stifle your ridiculous laugh. The way you smile when you look at me--” Louis’ voice catches, and Harry wants nothing more than to reassure him that he feels the same. “I know your life doesn’t allow room for me. And I just can’t do this to myself.”

“Louis. I swear you mean more to me than a holiday romance. I know what I’ve said about my career and the life I’ve been living, but I don’t want to live it like that anymore. God, Lou, you’re the one who’s shown me that.” He steps forward, gathering Louis’ hands in his own. “When I get home, I’m going to be making some changes. No more going on the road all the time. I can base out of London. Work out of the studios there. I want to see you when we’re both back home, if that’s what you want as well.”

Louis’ still looking at him, a little skeptical at his declaration. He doesn’t blame him. 

“I’ll prove it to you, Louis. I will. I’m not going to pressure you into coming inside. I just want you to know that I can’t wait to take you out for real when we both know that it’s a date. I want to cook you healthy meals in my kitchen--” Louis scrunches up his nose at this, and Harry chuckles. “And I want you to meet my family, and I want to walk through the park with your dog.”

And now Louis’ smiling again as he should be, always. 

“I’m falling for you, Louis Tomlinson. And I’m gonna be the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“Is that right?”

“Yep. If you give me that chance.” He brings Louis’ hands to his lips. “I’ll see you in London, Lou.”

~~*~~

It’s been two days since he last saw Louis. 

He wakes up alone in his rather posh flat that he rarely stays in long enough to make it look lived in. He’s no idea what time it is as he’s given in to his jet lag and just slept when he’s tired. The blackout shades in his bedroom allow him to pretend it’s night whenever he likes. 

Staring at the ceiling in the semi-darkness, he thinks about that last conversation with Louis. Will he hear from him today when he returns to London? Or was Louis just letting him down easy back in St. Lucia? Or maybe he’s home and is having second thoughts about some nomadic songwriter who didn’t know how to take a vacation. Enough whinging even if it’s just in his head.

He sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed, yawning. When he picks up his phone, he sees a missed call from a few minutes ago, which must have been buzzing enough to wake him. 

It’s Louis.

He bolts to his feet and with shaking fingers presses Louis’ name to ring him back.

He’s greeted with Louis’ reedy voice. “Thank fuck.”

“Morning to you as well.” He can’t stop the smile that crosses his face.

There’s a laugh on the other end. “It’s afternoon, Harold.”

Christ, he feels relieved to hear Louis’ voice again, even if it’s only been two days. “Is it?”

“Mmm. So I suppose this means I’ve woken you?”

“I’m up. It’s fine. It’s afternoon anyway, I’ve heard.”

“I guess this means you’re at home then?” Louis’ trying to sound casual, but he hears the hesitance in his voice. 

“I’m home.” He doesn’t want to leave anything to chance, so he immediately puts it out there. “When can I see you again, Louis?”

He hears Louis let out a loud breath. “Depending on where your flat is--a few minutes.”

“What? You’re in Hampstead?” He nearly drops the phone.

“Yes? Fuck, I don’t know what I’m doing. I got off the plane, and I came to your neighbourhood like a prat because all I can think about is seeing you again and I--”

“Louis!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to text you my address. All I can think about is seeing you as well.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Now the grin on his face is stupidly wide. His face actually hurts a bit.

He frantically looks through his clothing for something clean and decent and pulls it on just before he hears the buzz of his phone again with a text from Louis. He practically runs to answer the door and flings it open to the sight of a quite tired but very handsome Louis. 

They stare at each other for a moment before Harry’s moving towards him and Louis moves forward to meet him in the middle. Louis tastes like tea and something sweet, and he’ll never tire of kissing him like this. His mind whirls about uselessly until it finally registers how knackered Louis must be. 

He pulls away just far enough to rest his forehead against Louis’. “Do you want to come in this time?”

Louis laughs. “Yes. Bit tired, me.”

Harry grabs Louis’ suitcase and drags it and Louis inside his flat. He wants to throw Louis onto his bed, but he keeps his head for the moment. “You want a shower?”

Louis looks bleary eyed but happy and just nods. Harry can’t believe he’s standing here in his entry way and quickly shuffles him off to the shower, handing him a fluffy towel and instructions to stay in it as long as he likes while he puts on the kettle. 

When Louis pads into his kitchen twenty minutes later clad only in a towel, he realises he should have given him some joggers or something. 

“My suitcase is still by the door,” Louis says, running a hand through his damp hair. “Don’t really have anything clean in there though.”

“Let me grab you something, Lou.”

He comes back to the most beautiful picture he’s ever seen. Louis making tea in his kitchen with a towel slung low over his hips. His knees actually feel a bit wobbly. His brain to mouth filter clearly misfires because what he says is, “Want to take this tea to bed?”

Louis’ eyebrows lift to his hairline. 

Harry laughs as he hides his face in his hands. “To sleep! I swear I meant to sleep! I’m sure you’re exhausted.”

Louis laughs as well. “I could sleep. Since I woke you, I guess you’re probably a bit tired, yeah?”

They end up in bed, not in the way he’d expected them to be the first time in his bed, but when he wakes up in Louis’ arms, he can’t say he isn’t happy about how they’ve started out back in London.

“Morning,” Louis mumbles when he notices Harry’s awake.

“It’s afternoon,” he says.

“Wanker,” Louis laughs. “Probably night now, innit?”

“Probably.” They turn onto their sides to look at each other in the dim light of Harry’s bedroom. 

“I wish I’d gone back to your room with you that last night,” Louis whispers.

“Is that right?”

“I spent the entire last day I was there, kicking myself for not taking the chance. Was a right mess on the plane if I’m honest.”

“Thought you had everything together.”

“I don’t. Not when it comes to you. I haven’t felt like this about anyone for a long time. I was worried I’d missed my chance with you.”

“You didn’t miss anything. I’m right here.”

Louis reaches for him then, one hand clasping Harry’s chin to tilt him into his kiss. He pushes himself forward to press his body against Louis’, the only thing between them the fabric of their joggers. The kiss is mind melting, and all Harry can do is rely on his instinct to get closer. 

In his imagination, their first time together was filled with fluttering kisses and sweet nothings, but the reality is that his body is burning with pent up need. Louis’ hands leave his face and travel down his body to the waist of his joggers and then his fingers slip beneath the fabric to cup his arse and press them even closer together.

Harry moans into Louis’ mouth at the sensation. But he wants more. He needs skin against skin. He needs Louis’ mouth and cock and kisses and heart. He wants everything.

His body thrums with desire as he grips Louis’ hair and pulls a bit to stop him from devouring his mouth. “Want you inside me.”

It’s Louis’ turn to moan. Harry sits up to grab lube and condoms from his side table that he tosses onto the bed before wiggling out of his joggers. Louis props himself up on an elbow to watch. “You’re bloody gorgeous, Harry. Can’t believe I’m here. Can’t believe I’m this lucky.”

“You’re about to get real lucky if you take off your pants.”

“That was terrible.”

“You love it.”

“I do.”

The sight of Louis nude in his bed is one that will forever be seared into his memory. His taut body and hard, thick cock is making his mouth water and his own cock twitch. He quickly pulls himself onto his hands and knees; there’s no mistaking what he wants.

“Fuck, you look good like this, love. All ready for me.” Harry wiggles his ass a bit, and Louis laughs. “Eager.”

He doesn’t have to wait much longer for Louis’ slicked up fingers to begin to push inside him, and those clever fingers make him writhe on the bed as he begs for more. He finds he isn’t surprised at how vulnerable he’s willing to be for Louis, for the man who has upended his life in such a short amount of time. 

Louis’ lips find the skin of Harry’s thighs and bum and hips and spine as his fingers work into him as Louis tells him how intoxicating he finds Harry, how much he desires him. It brings his arousal to new heights at his words and his touch until he’s whimpering for Louis to use more than his fingers.

Before he has much of a chance to miss the feeling of his fingers inside him, Louis has lined himself up, pressing gently against him, letting him feel the tip of his cock against his rim. 

“Please.”

And then, Louis is filling him, slowly, steadily. His moans stutter into the pillow. “Ah--ahh--Lou--ahh”

“Harry?” Louis’ voice sounds strained as though he’s barely keeping himself together as he stills inside him.

“Don’t stop.” So Louis pulls back and then thrusts in. “Oh,  _ fuck _ .”

“You feel amazing, love. So, so good.” Louis’ rambling now as he thrusts again, gripping Harry’s hips with his hands as he fucks into him. 

Harry feels almost dizzy with pleasure, and words no longer form on his tongue, just whimpers and nonsense. The fullness, the stretch of him, leaves Harry breathless. The warmth of the room is reminiscent of the heat they left behind in St. Lucia, only this is a heat made between their bodies. Harry feels his curls stick to his neck and forehead, slick with sweat as he moves his body in time with Louis’ thrusts. 

He’s unprepared when one of Louis’ hands slips from his hip and slides over his cock. And with only a few strokes he’s coming into Louis’ hand with Louis’ name spilling from his lips. Louis pulls himself out of Harry with a grunt as Harry slumps forward onto the bed. But then he turns over to watch because he knows Louis hasn’t come yet. 

It’s a sight worth seeing. Louis on his knees between Harry’s parted thighs as his hand strokes up and down, and his eyes hungrily devour the sight of Harry sprawled before him. He comes across the ink of Harry’s tattoos on his stomach, and he makes a mental note to ask him if that’s a particular area he’s fond of. For future reference, of course. 

Louis flops down beside him, grinning madly.

“You look awfully pleased with yourself,” he says.

Louis’ smile grows even bigger. “I’m right chuffed, yeah. Probably be smiling in my sleep. Probably won’t be able to stop smiling until you try to make me eat veg in my breakfast.”

Harry snorts. “What if I make you a full English instead? Will you keep smiling?”

“I have a feeling I’ll be smiling about you for a good long while, Harold.”

Harry can’t help but smile back, a little smug.

~~*~~

Their smiles stay in place long after that full English breakfast. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, please leave kudos and comments! You can [reblog the tumblr post for this fic here](https://allwaswell16.tumblr.com/post/186942329951/the-way-you-smile-a-larry-fic-by-allwaswell16-for) or [retweet this tweet](https://twitter.com/all_was_well_16/status/1161077681426980869?s=20) and I will love you forever! <3
> 
> The original prompt was: Harry and louis are on separate holidays alone, a break from their real lives but meet one night. Where is up to you but they quickly hit it off and spend the rest of their holiday together. Lots of fluff, smut and not much angst please! Destination for their holiday needs to be somewhere sunny.


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